


Let Me Give You All My Love

by waitingforjudas



Series: Judas' Kinktober 2019 [17]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Stiles Stilinski, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, BDSM, Dom Stiles Stilinski, Dorks in Love, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, IT IS BRIEFLY MENTIONED ONLY FOR WORLDBUILDING PURPOSES, ITS ONLY MENTIONED BUT IF MISCARRIAGE IS UPSETTING DONT READ, Kinktober, Kinktober 2019, M/M, MISCARRIAGE IS NOT A PLOT POINT, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Omega Derek Hale, Police Officer Derek Hale, Police Officer Stiles Stilinski, Police Uniforms, Porn with Feelings, Shibari, Sub Derek Hale, Uniforms, basically what i'd actually picture sex with stiles would be like, hot dogging, this is about as accurate as i could get it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 06:34:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21094994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waitingforjudas/pseuds/waitingforjudas
Summary: Derek wants to have sex with his drop-dead-gorgeous fiancé, but he’s exhausted. He’d just lie there, and there’s no way that Stiles would be into Dead Fish Derek.But maybe Stiles doesn’t see him that way.Written for Kinktober 2019 prompts: Shibari, Hot Dogging, and Uniforms.





	Let Me Give You All My Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is 10/16’s short. I’ll be working on 10/18 and 10/19’s shorts today, and hopefully they'll be up, at the latest, by tomorrow. 
> 
> _Written for Kinktober 2019. Prompt list can be found at https://twitter.com/NihilistShiro/status/1162794889970511872._

Derek was exhausted. He loved working as a deputy, and he loved working in Stiles’ precinct, but he didn’t love the days where he had call after harrowing call. 

He was just grateful that he and Stiles weren’t partners anymore. 

He told Stiles as much only to get an affronted huff and a hard slap to his arm in response. 

“What?” Derek blinked. He hadn’t said something mean, had he? Nothing—nothing bad. 

“You just said you’re glad we’re not partners!”

He frowned. “Oh! No, no, Stiles, I meant work partners.”

“I know!”

“What, you’d rather watch people point guns at me and try to keep a level head all day?” Derek scoffed. 

Stiles deflated. “No, it’s— Sorry. I’m just tired, that’s all.”

“So am I,” Derek said, and didn’t dare say a word about how he was justified because he was two weeks pregnant. 

Stiles didn’t know yet, and Derek didn’t plan to tell him until it had hit a month. Male omegas didn’t exactly do great during pregnancies, and they miscarried at the highest rate of any other designation. 

He also wasn’t going to tell Stiles just yet because, once he did, Stiles was going to go on a freaked-out rampage of constant bed rest and policing Derek’s diet (like that was necessary). Derek just wanted a couple more weeks of working before he had to start talking Stiles down off of ledges on the daily. 

(It was nothing wrong with Stiles, to be clear. It was more that Stiles had a history of jumping into action to protect those he loved, even when that wasn’t necessarily the best idea. It made him a great police officer, but it made him an absolutely suffocating worrier.)

“So,” Stiles said, fingers drumming on his thighs. Derek reached over to still his hand. Stiles smiled at him. “What do you want to do tonight? Anything… interesting?”

Derek snorted, rubbing Stiles’ hand. “I’m exhausted, Stiles. You’d have to do all the work.”

“I don’t mind!”

“Okay, sure, maybe you don’t mind now, but you’re going to feel differently when Dead Fish Derek comes out to play,” he muttered, letting go of Stiles’ hand to keep a hand on the wheel as he signaled. 

“I told you to stop calling yourself that,” Stiles said, so petulant that Derek scoffed. 

“It’s accurate, Stiles, not offensive. Look, I’d love to have sex with you, but—”

“If it’s about you not participating as much, why don’t I just tie you up? I could do a pretty rope tie, too. I’ve been practicing.”

Derek hesitated. On the one hand—he really wanted to. Even exhausted, Stiles was the most appealing possible activity, and sleep was included on the list. And Stiles would definitely make him feel amazing. 

“Okay,” Derek said. “On the condition that we don’t have penetrative sex tonight.”

“Dude, that’s so not a dealbreaker for me. I could bottom if you—”

“Don’t want, but thanks for the offer.” Derek pulled into their neighborhood. 

“I could blow you, or we could sixty-nine, or I could use your asscheeks.”

He shrugged and put the car in park. “My hole’s out of business for the night, but whatever else you’re up to, we can go for it.” 

Stiles grinned, leaning over to kiss him before they got out of the car. “Have I ever told you how nice you look in a uniform?”

“Have I ever told you how much nicer you look out of a uniform?”

###

Stiles adjusted the final knot. “Comfortable? Is it putting pressure anywhere?” 

Stiles’ shibari was mostly decorative, but he—rarely—accidentally tied the knots a little snugger than Derek would’ve preferred. 

“Feels good,” Derek said, swinging his arms a little. “I mean, I could do some squats if it’d make you feel better.”

Stiles snorted, folding his arms. “I’d like to see you try.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “And why’s that?”

Stiles shrugged. The pinnacle of innocence, he was. “No reason.”

Derek shifted his legs and started to squat like he did in his workouts, but halfway down, the ropes got too tight as they stretched. 

“Okay,” he grunted, straightening up. “And what’s the purpose of that?”

“Makes it harder for you to decide to spread your legs and take my big, thick Alpha cock.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “It’s not that big, Stiles.”

Stiles gasped. “The cruelty! How dare you!”

“Hey, I’m happy to just go take a nap.” Derek wasn’t, though, and he could tell that Stiles was fully aware of that. 

“Oh, is that so?” Stiles shrugged, looking almost sad. “Well, I guess that’d be fine. I mean, not everybody wants to get a blowjob and then have their ass covered in lube just for somebody else’s pleasure. I mean. That’s not something you’ve ever liked, is it, Der? Being used as a warm fucktoy for my pleasure? For my release?”

Derek shuddered, trying to ignore the fact that his cock was stupidly hard. “Maybe,” he muttered. 

“What was that?”

“God, Stiles, just—fucking use me,” he choked out. He couldn’t really sink to his knees like he normally would—partially because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get back up again—but Stiles had seemed to think of that, too, and walked over to Derek, offering an elbow. 

“I think I should lay you down here,” Stiles said, “and blow you until you’re crying. What do you think? Should I let you blow me instead? Should I let you rim me? What would you like, Der?”

Derek let Stiles help him lie down on the bed. “I don’t— I’m tired. If… maybe….”

“I could take over everything. You could just lie there, writhing in pleasure. What do you think about that?”

Derek nodded, shivering. “I’d—I’d like that.”

“Then let’s do that.” 

And with that, Stiles was off like a shot, tossing his nightstick to the side—because Stiles had a thing about fucking Derek while he was in his uniform, which Derek didn’t understand, and didn’t try to—and falling mouth-first onto Derek’s cock. 

Derek shouted, hips bucking, and Stiles gagged, choking. 

“Shit— Shit, Stiles, I’m sorry!”

Stiles pulled off with a wet pop. “Der. I’m _fine_. Calm down. You can fuck my mouth, okay, Sourwolf?”

Derek swallowed. “Are—are you sure?”

“I think you know me well enough to know that I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t sure.” 

That was decidedly untrue, but Stiles looked genuinely earnest about this. He looked like he knew what he was in for. 

Stiles huffed. “Fine, don’t fuck my throat. I’m just saying, it’d be hot to watch you lose control, fuck _anything_ because you’re so desperate… it’s up to you.”

Derek rolled his eyes, because Stiles knew exactly what he was doing, and he knew that Derek knew it. 

That was a little complicated. 

Whatever. They both knew what the other was doing, and knew that—

Derek just wanted to come, not go through a series of logic hoops he wouldn’t have liked even when he was awake. 

“Just fucking suck me off, Stiles,” Derek muttered, thrusting his hips up to punctuate it. 

“Ooh,” Stiles said, “bossy.” 

But he took Derek’s cock down without the slightest complaint. Other than his usual sarcasm, that was. 

And besides, Stiles’ sarcasm was part of what attracted Derek to him in the first place. Stiles without sarcasm would be like Derek without scowls. 

Derek stretched out—well, as much as he really could considering he was somewhat tied up and restrained. 

“You taste so _good_, Der,” Stiles said, and went back to bobbing on Derek’s cock. 

Derek tried not to preen, but this was his _mate_, telling him how good he was, how he tasted nice—just a little thing, a _tiny_ thing, but still. 

God, Derek was proud to be carrying Stiles’ baby. 

“Come when you want.” Stiles rubbed the tip of Derek’s cock on his lips, which always somehow made Derek hypersensitive for at least a few minutes after. Maybe it was because of the casual, easy way that Stiles touched Derek—maybe it was the sensation of soft, wet, plush skin pressed against his slit, rubbed against it, but whatever it was…. 

“Got it,” Derek choked out. “I, uh, assume you’ll come after I’ve come?”

“Now you’ve got it,” Stiles said, grinning, and then sucked Derek’s cock down again, swallowing and swallowing as he lowered himself until the tip of his nose was pressing into Derek’s pubic hair. 

He could feel Stiles’ breath, slow and easy and steady, washing over his skin, and Derek sighed, going boneless. “Thank you, Alpha,” Derek murmured, feeling himself almost splitting into two—the desperate part of himself that just wanted to come, and the relaxed, peaceful part of him that just wanted to give himself over to Stiles. 

Stiles swallowed around him twice more and then Derek was whimpering a warning, and Stiles pulled back enough that Derek felt comfortable coming in Stiles’ mouth. 

It only took one time watching Stiles choke on come as it came out of his nose to turn him off of coming directly down Stiles’ throat. And Stiles, of course, had pitched it as—

As—

Derek groaned. “_Stiles_. Gonna….”

Stiles sucked harder, and Derek’s muscles went rigid, arching in his bondage, and then he came, feeling all of the tension in his body wash away almost magically. 

Beautifully. 

Stiles moaned as Derek finished coming. He hadn’t swallowed yet, and Stiles—well, Stiles had pitched the whole thing of coming in _mouths_ rather than _throats_ as, “Hey, I can taste you that way.”

Derek hadn’t been able to think of a single complaint thus far, and honestly, he hadn’t wanted to. Not when his gorgeous, strong, brilliant Alpha was happily sucking him dry almost every day of the week. 

Stiles slowly pulled off, and then swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. 

Derek just stared at him before his eyes fluttered shut, exhausted. “Fuck me, Stiles.”

Stiles coughed. 

Derek cracked an eye open. “I thought we agreed on swallowing or spitting, not just holding it in your mouth until you choked.”

Stiles waved a hand dismissively. “It’s fine. I thought you said you didn’t want me to actually fuck you, though.”

“Just— Hmm. Between my cheeks. Help me roll over?”

Stiles laughed, and Derek smiled back at him sleepily. “You’re useless, aren’t you?”

“Only when you’re here.” Derek winked as Stiles rolled him over onto his stomach. 

“Of course,” Stiles said, and Derek could hear the smile in his voice. 

God, he loved this man. 

“Okay—I _promise_ I’m remembering to warm up the lube first,” Stiles said, opening the nightstand drawer. 

Derek rolled his eyes. “If you squirt refrigerated lube on my ass again, you’re going to have some fun explaining to everybody why your hand sanitizer’s so _sticky_.”

Stiles snorted. “I remember the conversation. You ready?”

Derek nodded. “_Assuming_ the lube isn’t thirty degrees.”

“That’s _below_ freezing,” Stiles said. 

“Excuse me for not knowing the freezing point of lube,” Derek muttered. 

“Actually,” Stiles said, and Derek groaned. 

“Stiles, if you go on a fucking research tangent right now, so help me—”

“Okay, okay! I got it! I’m focused, I’m on task, I’m paying attention—”

“You’re getting on your phone!”

Stiles hesitated. “Well, that’s because I was going to… make a… sex tape? Of us?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “What’s the freezing point of lube, Stiles?” 

“Okay, so, like, I’m really hard, and your ass is two inches under my cock, so excuse my Google-fu at the moment, but I think regular freezers work. _Oh my God, Derek_, we could make _lube cubes_.”

“No,” Derek said firmly. Best to shut that idea down as soon as possible. 

“It’d be like a suppository!”

“I’m sorry, do you _not_ want to fuck me?”

“No, no! I do! I do, I swear, I just got distracted!” A handful of—thankfully well-warmed—lube slapped down between his asscheeks and Derek tried to stifle a laugh. “I’ll let you know what I found out later, okay?” 

“I would hope for nothing less,” Derek said. 

He could feel Stiles’ cock lowering down into his crack and Derek smiled to himself. This was the man he’d chosen, and he’d do it all over again. 

But then Stiles was rutting against his ass, squeezing Derek’s ass tight around his cock, and Derek really wished that he’d waited to get off until after this, because already, this was fantastic. Unreasonably so. 

Stiles groaned, speeding up and Derek bucked his hips up, just a little, offering a counterpoint to Stiles’ thrusts. 

“Shit— _Derek_.”

Well-received, evidently. 

Derek relaxed into the mattress as he felt Stiles’ come shooting over his back. He was going to smell like his Alpha now, and that was—oh, that was good. 

Stiles slumped on top of him. “You’re so hot,” he mumbled into Derek’s ear. 

Derek snorted. “Am I?”

“Yeah, you are. I’m gonna get a wash cloth and—”

“No!” Derek cried and then froze. 

_Ooh… shit._

“Why not?” Stiles asked slowly. “You’re always talking about how you hate dried come.”

Derek winced. “Um. This is… not necessarily… how I pictured telling you?”

Stiles went tense on top of him. “Derek. Are you implying that you’re pregnant?”

“More… outright saying it? I’m pregnant.”

Stiles was silent for a second and then he let out this joyful noise that sounded almost like a bark or a yip. Or a cross between the both of them. “You’re _pregnant_? It’s mine, right?”

“No,” Derek said, “I had sex with the mailman.” At Stiles’ growl, he rolled his eyes. “Yes, dumbass, it’s your baby. Would you rub your come on my back already? Please?”

Stiles’ hands were on his back before Derek could take another breath, massaging his come onto every inch of bare skin, fingers tracing his tattoo over and over. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” 

Derek shrugged. “I don’t know, I guess I just figured you’d worry about my job risking the baby or—”

“I didn’t even think about that!” Stiles yelped. “How did I not think about that!”

“Less shrieking, more massaging, please,” Derek said, and Stiles went back to massaging him again, but he kept frantically talking about how Derek was going to need to transition over to a desk job as soon as possible, if only because his scent would change sooner or later, and he’d become the most viable hostage to criminals, and, oh, hey, Derek could start eating donuts, _they’re good for growing babies_, and Derek just rolled his eyes. “Hey, Stiles?” 

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, Sourwolf, but that doesn’t mean you’re getting out of this.”

“I’d assume nothing less.”

###

A few hours later, Stiles shook Derek awake. “I made dinner.”

“Thank you, Alpha,” Derek murmured, pushing himself up to take the bowl of gooey mac and cheese and huge chunks of fried hot dogs and bacon. It was easily Stiles’ best dish. 

“Also,” Stiles said, “and I totally didn’t make dinner just so I could tell you this, but the freezing point of water-based lube is generally zero Celsius. But most can be brought down to negative twenty-two Celsius and still retain its properties when warmed, according to a Google Patent.”

Derek snorted, picking up a forkful of his food. “I don’t think I could’ve gone without knowing that.”

Stiles kissed his temple. “I don’t think so, either. On another note, I was thinking we should call our kid Astor.”

“Please tell me that’s not a reference to Astroglide.”

“Well….”

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed, please consider leaving kudos or a comment. 
> 
> Also, my Google-fu is far from up to par with Stiles', but the Google Patent I found is here (https://patents.google.com/patent/WO2009095639A2/en) if you're interested. 
> 
> _This work was inspired by @NihilistShiro's Kinktober prompt list, available here: https://twitter.com/NihilistShiro/status/1162794889970511872 _


End file.
